Time To Reflect
by MichaelMyersLover34
Summary: Kirsty is stuck in Hell, so how is she surviving? Who's taking care of her? long oneshot with a little bit of fluiffiness close to the end. Pinhead X Kirsty. Dedicated to Laura 101


DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything at all in the HELLRAISER series or have anything to do with the characters. THis all, excpet the story, belongs to Clive BAraker.

NOw that that's out of the way, this is just a long oneshot between our favorite lead cenobite and innocent little Kirsty. I made it for a very inspiring person, ~Laura 101

Sorry if the story sucks, it's my first time. ^^' I highly doubt anyone else will be reading this, but enjoy! :3

It had been almost literally an eternity since Kirsty had some time and personal space to stop and think, and she had welcomed the opportunity to reflect back on what had just happen between her and her new obsession to whom she had become a silent admirer of just a month ago. Kirsty was stuck in Hell, for who knows how long it had been in the real world, following a certain newly found crush all about the labyrinth. But it's not like she asked for it to be that way, as far as she remembered. Or at least as _far _as _she_ can remember. Up until lately, she'd been having problems deciphering just what she had been choosing, he had been choosing for her, and what destiny had been choosing. It seemed like she was the last to be in control of her choices and those last two factors had been choosing everything else for her. It had all happened just about a month or so ago.

'"_Ah, Kirsty. We meet again. For the last time I hope." Kirsty fumbled nervously with the intricate box in her hands, not sure what she was exactly looking for. Though she was sure it wouldn't of made since anyways, even if she had known. She looked up momentarily as the box was wisped away by some unseen force from her feminine hands, and into the pin faced demon's masculine ones. Three unknown characters, yet with familiar mutilations, emerged from the shadows and advanced upon dear Kirsty. Her breath became raspy and a painful shock of panic burst throughout her body. "Wait!" She backed up and yielded a defending hand in front of her. Her face, which was currently turned to the side, was twisted into a look of despair and disgust. "Wait!….please…" The one who was obviously the leader displayed a demanding, yet curious gesture, as his hand raised in the air to cease his loyal followers. Everything came to a halt as the leading, powerful demon studied the odd sight before him. Another deal perhaps? A bribe maybe?_

"_Go on girl." "I-I can offer you something else," He cocked his head to the side in an unusual _

_show of interest. "Something better than me." Her breathing grew faster and less ventilated as a heart-stopping silence weighted the air in the ghastly, depressing chamber they all stood patiently in. "….Oh?" Kirsty felt the heat rising to her face under his intense gaze and looked away, cursing herself for showing weakness, though to scared to let him see her in such a manner. "Yes. Yes, five souls in exchange for mine…" She shook nervously and attempted to wipe the image of him away from the back of her eyelids whenever she blinked. Still, the compelling leader had said nothing and studied her further. "What brings you here, child?" "Erm, ul-I-I…that's not important anymore." She spoke with clear uncertainty. "…..Oh?" Kirsty found herself staring harder at the floor. "Uh I came back, for him…" "As in that pathetic excuse for a husband, Trevor was it?" "Um, yes…him." She bowed her head suddenly feeling shame for coming back for her own husband. How, exactly, could that be? she wondered._

_Pinhead stepped aside and gentlemanly thrust an arm out to his side as a way of giving her passage at such a close range to him to continue on her insignificant, doomed to fail, quest. Why stop her when she would only do herself in? She looked warily at his arm and stood quiet and motionless for a moment, then she ran full throttle past his endearing gesture, uncomfortable with the proximity he had barely left for her to escape by. She had no idea where she was going, perhaps she would never know where she would run to in such a dramatic, loathsome place, which seemingly reached out into infinity. All she was sure that she did know was that she had to find something here, something that was for her. Some sort of reason to justify why she had ever come here in the first place. Was she crazy? She had to have been, why else would she wind up in this mess on her own account. She had no real reason to venture back to the labyrinth of Hell, since she certainly held no interest in coming back for that wretched ex-husband of hers, so she was dead set on finding some sort of reason for why she had ever considered and went through with such a thing. Door after door, endless roads and pathways to take, none of them reminded her of herself or related to her in the slightest. If they did anything to the poor girl, they reminded her of her inferior presence there in the labyrinth. Doors and large hallways leading to better and greater things. Secrets locked behind each one, but she was just a sitting duck. It was impossible for one there in Hell to no nothing about such a boring child in existence. There was no flesh to learn of her, no secrets to pry out, not one thing there in the labyrinth to show any importance of the girl. She had just begun to feel hot tears prick into her blurred vision, threatening to fall and the her lack of will to go on, the childish_ _woman quite literally stumbled upon an old, accustomed memory of her childhood past in all its true glory. Oh, it was no illusion, she was sure of it._

_Kirsty stopped to survey the answer to her prays; the door to her father's home before he vanished from orphaned girl all those years ago. It was a beckon of hope which would save her from the wicked Pandora guardians that would soon find her, no matter where she was to turn in the halls of the labyrinth; coming to reap her very soul. There was still a chance of survival. She opened it without hesitation, turning the cold, steel knob until a sudden click sounded as her queue to hurry inside. She whirled around and slammed the door tight, as if trying to jam it into that specific position like it would protect her from any outside force. When her head slowly turned to observe her newest whereabouts, she realized the situation she had just gotten herself into, and it was not pretty. She stood in awe for a moment at what could be no doubt identified as the very same hallway she had just escaped from. The same bleak corridor of those damn, stone halls and countless chains swinging low to her collarbone, and worse yet, her throat, directly above her from the ceiling. As if the sudden thought of losing a larynx was not enough a suspicious noise sounded from the near corner of the hall, the side she was closest to. Kirsty held her breath and stood perfectly still, not even disturbing the air around her as she waited for another sort of peculiar noise. When nothing came, Kirsty began to study the door she had just ran through. It didn't really seem different on the other side. So why was it here? What purpose could it serve to have the old door of her father's-There it was again. That damn noise. Like footsteps maybe, though they were weak. Kirsty pushed her back against the door and held on to the handle underneath her soft, pink palm. As the footsteps drew nearer, Kirsty made a move to throw open the door and bolt out when it refused to open and instead remained as shut as she had situated it. But it couldn't of been that tight before! No, surely not! Just what was in here with her? she wondered._

_She turned her back to the ominous footsteps in a panicked state to try and wriggle the knob pry open her only optional escape. What was it, what did it want? Finally the door had gave way to moving, but before she could even turn around, a crushing force pushed her body and slammed her face back up against the door. "Youuu bitch!" The voice snarled between clenched teeth. She could picture the man's nostrils flaring and his brows furrowing into ultimate rage and fury. Such fury, that it could only be one person who could ever POSSIBLY hold so much contempt and hatred for the young girl. Kirsty choked and sputtered for air, her lungs and airway beginning to flatten, compressing all the oxygen out of her lungs in one solid notion. "Oh! Frank!" She managed to spit out as she gasped wildly with her mouth agape for air. "That's right you little slut! You set me up last time, this is all YOUR fault! YOU did this to ME!" He balled his fist in her hair and yanked hard at her scalp. Her luscious locks pulling and breaking to insanity from the shear brute force of his firm hold. That didn't count the overwhelming pain he was inflicting as he continued to push further with her face into the door. Practically making an impression of it. "What-What do want?" He made an animalistic roar and buried his nose into the back of her skull, as if relishing the scent of fear. "I want to-fuck-you-up. It's payback now daddy's girl." He pulled her away from the door so fast it had made her dizzy before slamming her face and body once more into its sturdy frame. Kirsty screamed out in agony, praying to GOD, or whatever god would have mercy on her soul at this point, to end the unbearable pain and bruising._

_The pain shot through her core again like a wild fire as Frank's hold and the fueling force of his anger turned into rapid, unstable, murderous intentions. His hold becoming tighter and his strength reaching to new ungodly levels as he thrust the youth's face time and time again into the sickening, miserable door. Kirsty's vision was blurred and she could not see out of her left eye. Her faced battered and bruised. Eyelids and cheekbones cut and bleeding. Gums and teeth crackling away. And her forehead hinting towards exploding as she would surely come to her death with the next thrust. Miraculously it stopped. Kirsty would be thankful if not for the numbness taking over her emotional and physical being, as she was unable to recognize the absence of killer's deadly, vicious hands which had so easily threatened to take her life away. She collapsed upon the doorway and listened as best as she could to the sound of distant screaming before falling back and passing out into something comforting. Pinhead looked down at the half alive figure sprawled in his arms. Tears and blood strayed their way down the gentle girl's cheeks. He absentmindedly stroked her cheek, tenderly, before realizing his actions and calling forth a certain Female Cenobite to quickly and without question save the dying girl's life._

Kirsty remembered waking up here in this bed that belonged to the lord of the cenobites and the almighty tough-ass that he was, had yet to even touch the end sheets of the bed in which Kirsty lay on for a month now. He came and went as he pleased, Kirsty always unsure of just what he was doing in the passing seconds he spent in there, though sometimes, against her better judgment had decided on investigating. She would often follow him to and fro. Always curious as to what he may be up to. She still hadn't fully recovered, and she had noticed right away that her left eye had been bandaged up since the moment she had first woken up and sat up in her bed. Still, that never stopped her from being nosy. She had heard him many times talking to the great diamond levitating in the sky with it's many intricate design, much like the Lemerchand's box, speaking with the cenobitc leader about the human presence in the labyrinth that Kirsty Cotton had made noticeable to the others. What surprised her about each one of these talks was that no matter how violent, verbal, or demanding it progressed into, mostly from the demonic diamond, the Prince stood his ground, convincing his lord to allow the girl to live (here in the labyrinth) and refused to let harm fall upon her. Yes, her. The same 'child' that had for so many years lived in fear and regret of this one particular cenobite. Fretting that he might someday sweep past the boundary of her safety realm and drag her through the agony and into the labyrinth. Her mind had always wretched at the thought, and now here he was, taking the beatings for her, letting her continue on with her oh humble life which truly meant nothing anymore, and, dare she say it if she didn't know better, protecting her. But he wouldn't do that would her?

It had sure seemed like it. Day in and day out, rushing through the room of the girl's whereabouts, staying momentarily, but nonetheless checking on her for her own sake. (An odd thing for the Prince of Pain to do) She felt like he was of course entitled to do as he pleased with all that power and authority he had, not to mention, it was his room he generously allowed her to stay, but it just didn't seem to fit right with them since she had spent a lifetime fearing the man, erm demon, and he had still obviously never wanted to let her escape or go without her soul; all during the same time period she had been avoiding him as he was drawing closer to her. They thought about each other for the wrong reasons. Everything about them was for all the wrong reasons. One for the fear of and one for the lack of. Though lately, Kirsty had found herself lost in thought over the cenobite. And for no reason in particular. Just always in deep, childish wonder and curiosity of the mysterious life the Prince had led. Thoughts of where was he, will he come back, is he ok, wait why do I care, I don't understand, I pray he doesn't kill me, and all sorts of wandering questions possibly never to be answered would rush through her mind whenever he would come and too quickly go. If one knew anything about Kirsty Cotton, it's that she needs the answers to her questions, it had always been that way; why wonder endlessly now and not find the answers herself since it was such a baffle. Kirsty had decidedly figured upon just that and set out to find them. To find _him_.

She raised her head off the pillow and stared at the room. Oddly enough, the cenobite leader never once cut off the only two _very_ dim lights preoccupying the corners of the room. Perhaps for her sake? _Perhaps_? She lifted her whole top half and allowed for her hair to sludge down the small of her back. The black silk strands shining off the gray of the hardly considerable lights. Though dim as they were, when Kirsty found her way through her feet to the stone floor boards, the light had cast clear shadows along the dreary walls. Outlining her form perfectly. Her bare feet beat the floor in a soft pitter-patter as she walked towards the familiar huge, ornate doors that she had so many times escaped past and stalked the tall, dark male figure she so sought interest and curiosity in. She hoisted the white, sleeveless satin nightgown that she had woken up with up in her firm grasp and walked through the deathly, forlorn halls. Upon arriving at the end of the vast hallway and rounding its corner, despair uncontrollably burst out when Kristy heard the familiar rumble of the irritable leader of hell and quickly turned back around the corner, out of sight. There would be know more Kirsty Cotton in the labyrinth, Earth, or any where if she ever got caught. She peered over its edge to bear witness to a very agitated Pinhead, lecturing one of his pathetic followers in a tone of voice Kirsty had come to recognize as murderous. The depth of his obsidian eyes portrayed its usual character of nothingness and void, even as his raving continued mercilessly. Someone must of really fucked up. His eyes were incapable of emotion, so _why_ did his voice have that damned ability to rise and further intimidate those who heard it? Especially Kirsty, for certain reasons. But his eyes always lied about his mood. Always said that there was nothing. Kirsty wasn't sure if she should trust his eyes that nothingness was sure to follow or not or if she should always remember to fear him. Maybe that was how he was so convincing. Those eyes never seem to promise anything, so how could they possibly lie?

Pinhead finished verbally punishing the follower's insolence and at once, they turned and fled to do his bidding, most likely to make up for not being killed yet and to show their gratitude for it. They all served under him. Such power, such authority. Kirsty was oddly attracted to it in a way that she wasn't sure of, but made her proud to be recognized under his intensive care and under his property as an 'untouchable' in this labyrinth of the damned, destroyed, and devastated. (That meant she was special) HE, this raining force of aggressiveness and confidence, power and order, this figure of strength, brutality, and ambitiousness, had chosen to save Kirsty of all the precious things he could choose, and chose to waste all of his time helping her in just the smallest, yet most effective, ways. Sure it was a good point when Kristy might ask herself, what else is in Hell that could spark any interest for anybody, but for him to save and do all for the greater good for her after the endless agonizing years of wishing to claim Kirsty's life as his, to rule under his solid control, was the most unlikely thing to register into either one of their minds. And it had become very clear after all the sneaking around and eavesdropping that absolutely NO ONE was to touch her; like it were some sort of new written in stone kind of rule. No one would try obviously, but it made her feel exceedingly special, like she had just been chosen from the whole universe as the one lucky star that got to orbit around the big, fabulous sun. Pinhead turned on his heel and stopped briefly in his tracks when his eyes locked on to the black headed girl in the sleeveless white gown leaning on the wall with her hands upon it. She looked back at him plainly, neither one averting their eyes, though uncomfortably waiting for the other's next move. At least, Kirsty was. What action would he take? What torment might he inflict on her? Would he even? She had after all been lying around with the false presumption that her wounds had been so grave that she had still yet to move after a month now. Would he yell or maybe punish her for meandering about or at least for following him after all this time? Did he even know that she had been doing so?

"How long have you been, wandering these halls all alone, child?" he asked in his usually careless, monotone voice. She was afraid at first and felt her legs fidget as she had almost fully agreed with herself on turning around and hurrying back off to the bedroom she was starting to belong to. She fought the urge, however, though not sure if it was for worse or better, and found the courage to speak up. "I…just got up…" It had been the first time they'd talked to each other since the faithful day of Kirsty's brutal beating, though she wasn't exactly sure why that was. He didn't seem to be avoiding, after all he did often come to Kirsty's, or rather his, bed in her horrible condition to make sure all was well with the poor girl. But it still somehow seemed that after all his efforts to keep her well, look after and protect her, and even temporarily visit her, that he had been trying to avoid a conversation or trying, perhaps, to ignore her existence up unto a moment like this where they would be face to face after Kirsty being caught sneaking off and proving to not be in such a critical position as she had been acting. "What do you want, girl?" he asked again. Kirsty hid her body and neck behind the corner of the wall and shyly replied. "Nothing…" She stared at him a moment's more and vanished from sight to walk swiftly back to her place. Sure that if she were to stop in the middle of her destination, he would slow her and question her more, perhaps of what she had heard. She was a fairly good liar, but he would be able to see through her. It didn't matter though whether she hesitated or not, for regardless of her attempt to escape his wrathful glare, he had stopped her when he called out to her as 'child' and she stood frozen to the spot. She dare not move. Was she in trouble? Should she pretend as if she couldn't hear him? What would happen if she ceased her halting and bolted out of his sight and straight to safety? (It's what normal people would think -_-') Could she even find refuge here in Hell? That was certainly a puzzling question.

She didn't have time to think twice about it when she felt his strong hands grab hold of her shoulders and whirl her around. He stood far to close and Kristy could feel her cheeks turning hot and a light shade of red beginning to tint them when he chose not to say anything. "I-I was just going to go back" She stuttered nervously, shaking beneath his excessive gaze. He towered over her by a great a deal, actually. She was, after all, a 'child'. He brought his face closer to her's, unbeknownst to Kirsty to simply study her condition. "Your face…It's natural hue is being altered to a shade of crimson. Why would you go and run amok around here if you were in such a state?" "Oh, well, it probably turned red after all the running around I did." His stare hardened into one of bewildered curiosity, amusement, and perhaps anger. Why was she running around exactly? What had he just said about her condition? She read his thoughts and tried her best to _carefully_ give him a reason. However, her reason turned into a sad excuse after the words didn't process right. "I was looking for you." She had to mentally slap herself for that one. His head fell to the side by a hair. "….Oh?" Damn it all with this man. "Uh-er-yes. I was…looking for you. I'm not dumb enough to go running everywhere when I'm still sick…and all." "I would hope that you would not be foolish as such to run random. I agree. What did you want?" She hadn't expected that next part. "I-I, got lost." She searched the roofing above for the answer. Why was she out in the first place? He leaned his head in further and narrowed his eyes to try and provoke a greater answer from her. She avoided his eyes at all costs and continued playing with her black crown, twirling her fingers around the soft fringe of her hair like a shy little girl on a date. A childish antic, really. Finding answers had not gone how she had hoped for it to have. Then something unexpected came. Not exactly a welcoming gesture, but to any normal human being capable of mercy and compassion, it would have been a comforting gesture. She wasn't sure what to make of his, however, as his hand had managed to slide to the small of her back and leaned the right side of her body weight against his. Her body pressed flat to his sturdy, overpowering form. She could feel the strong, defined muscles in his arm press against her back and she bucked up a bit at the feel.

She registered somewhere along the way that he was being gentle with her in his own cold, stoic way, and was bringing her back to his bedroom for safe keeping so as not to lose her or let her get hurt. Or let her wander _alone_ endlessly in Hell, not that that was important or anything. She walked with him only a short distance, seeing as that he knew his way around and knew all of the paths and shortcuts, and since the labyrinth was, and at the same time complicatedly wasn't, one big loop of infinity. When he led her to the previous doors she had time and time again let herself out of in the very same, forbidding bedroom beyond them, she had expected him to leave her there or at least order her to refrain from movement and stay in the bed. But that very unexpectedly didn't happen, and Kirsty was becoming real nervous, real fast. Instead, Pinhead led the juvenile girl into the room with his hand and brought her over to one of the two dim lamps for a moment before clicking one off and walking her back over to the other side of the room where the bed lay with the headboard pressed against the wall. The sides free of any captivation as it was in the center. As they reached the bed, her heart sped to the point of bursting, and he turned her around to look up at him. He never spoke a word though Kirsty had more than once opened her mouth to say something to hide her nervous stare every time he locked eye contact with the poor, defenseless girl. But nothing came out. At the very least, Kristy let out a soft murmur as he gentle draped his arm around her small back and kept his other holding her right hand. He carefully lay her down into the bed after violently throwing the covers back, and let her lay there. She stared up at him, unsure of what to do. The embarrassment of being so easily handled, and like a child nonetheless, catching up to her once pale cheeks. "…Rest child. You will have much to do when you awake…" Kirsty took on a quizzical look and the demon bestowed a reasonable answer to the cowering girl. "You will have me to answer to once you have woken, seeing as that you have broken many of our rules here, child." Kirsty opened her mouth in protest, but was cut short. "Wandering aimlessly within the realm of Hell, disturbing and disrupting the peace of the labyrinth, and further more, abusing the order by purposely lying to me about why you had wandered off in the first place-" "But I needed you! That's why I came out at all! I swear!" "…" "I had questions…" She tried again, though more quietly and without the anxious, despairing tone this time. He was more likely to answer to that.

"What questions, child?" Kirsty twitched her hand for a moment and pulled on the covers, picking at them with her perfectly manicured nails. His gaze remained unraveled and it was starting to drive Kirsty to the brink of insanity. "Yes, dear child?" She sighed heavily and sat up, her head leaned forward. Lithe fingers played casually with the long gown's fabric. Pinhead grew impatient. The truth was that Kirsty did have questions, so she wasn't lying, but she wasn't about to be _completely _truthful either. Unsure of what the truth even was. "Well I was wondering where you were…" That wasn't a lie. "And I was becoming lonely." Good, that wasn't a lie either, technically. "And?…" And? Oh GOD, what is there to think of after and? "And…and…and I was hoping…." Uh-oh, that one would be a lie. Pinhead ceased a hold of her hand once more and sat down beside her at the edge of the bed. "Child," He sounded disappointed. "We both know that you will only further endanger yourself and greaten the punishment if you were to continue that sentence. We both know that it would come out a lie. It is." "Yes, well…..Hey, why have you kept me here? I mean, alive that is? In one piece…" Pinhead didn't answer this, though he didn't seem to be lost in any kind of dumbstruck look, he felt himself pale (or paler) as he realized that he was at a loss for words. He stared in his usual uninterested state, but Kirsty could feel his hand tighten around her own Still, he remained calm. "Please, child. You need your rest. Go to sleep. As I have told you, you will need the energy." Kirsty made no further notion to question him and thought it better to honor his wishes by being silently grateful. She didn't want to push her luck, nor did she need anymore punishment. As Kirsty allowed for her head to fall back and release his hand into a somewhat loose grip as the powerful, demonic being (though he was being strangely compassionate currently) rose to his feet and towered over her. Kirsty pretended to be falling away into the colorless tunnel of slumber until the man above moved away from her and cut out the other barely lit light. The room in utter darkness. Kirsty's eyes shot open and she sat up, immediately shuddering when she realized the seriousness of the situation. She had just _agreed_ to sleep.

The senses fled form Kirsty when she thought about sleep. Hell wasn't a place of serenity and peace, it was a place of aguish, suffering , and disgust. The damned souls for all eternity could be heard, if listened closely to, all throughout the labyrinth screaming and wailing in pain as cenobites, the many followers of Hell's wrath, tortured and punished them. The slightest crevice in one of the doors to the many torture chambers roared like thunder with the desperate, screams of pain and discomfort. Souls of all ages, all punishments, all reasons, suffered the hurt and exile of hatred and cruelty in an unconditional state. It was Hell after all, and surely it would have a direct affect on a normal, or mostly normal when it came to Kirsty, human being's mind. One could not take such horror in and the be expected to willingly accept it. At least not an innocent. At the _very least_, that it. It's literally Hell. So it would stand to reason that Kirsty, every night, would hold her breath and listen, picture and imagine, dream and live the experiences theses tormented souls endured every waking second, never to find peace after the pain, nor a faltering wave of compassion. No love for the sinned and tainted ones of Hell's labyrinth. Kirsty didn't want to be alone in the dark with such events all around at every corner she turned. Her heart leapt to her throat as familiar rash thoughts strangled her mental health and she began to question her sanity for ever allowing herself to live. Did she deserve it after all? Pinhead, or commonly known to the damned, followers, and comrades as Xipe Totec, was not a foot away from the door and down the hall when a frightened Kirsty Cotton screamed out the name that the arrogant mortals had chosen for him due to his given state of his physical appearance. But it was his name, nonetheless, that she had screamed it. He turned, without hesitation, on his heel and rushed into the room. He was, however, better acquired to the darkness as he lived it, and was able to spot Kirsty reaching out into the darkness for a pair of hands to grab her own. "Please!" She screamed again, unaware of his presence. He walked over to the girl with her arms waving wildly. "Child." He spoke out and sensed her waving arms stopping and staying still. He uncharacteristically walked into her general direction and stood before her at the side of the bed before taking a hold of her hand and flattening his palms over the backs of her hands. They smoothed over until they found her slender wrists and firmly held them. "You can't leave me here!" a tear fell from the outer corner of her eye. When no response followed, Kirsty continued a further explanation to keep him from growing impatient. "I'm scared." He still acted as though he did not consider hearing her. "Please, talk to me! Anything but the noise! The agony, the hurt!" She was tearing up on the inside and under going a serious mental breakdown. Would she suffer the damned souls' same fate and hopelessly plead for the better to come? For him to console her? "…_please_…" Her whimpering and soft cries did not fall on deaf ears, and the cenobite leader sat down again to bring the girl's face closer to his, cupping her cheeks in his cold, rough hands. She bit her lip waiting for a reply. Would one come this time? "Child. There is nothing to fear here in the labyrinth. Though it is unwise and most rather unsafe to venture off into its depths alone or to do it at all, I have informed all here in Hell of your critical state and that they are not to harm you. No one and nothing will." Kirsty swallowed, her throat was sore from crying and the strain from screaming. She gasped for air as her nasal passage was stuffed up with mucus. Xipe could tell that she was unfazed by his reassuring words and would probably not be satisfied so easily. I will stay with you for the rest of the time you spend in sleep as it is dire you receive it for up coming events, dear child." He stood then and backed up to the corner.

"I sense your worry and insecurity, child, though you realize that I am completely incapable of affection in the slightest form, I will remain here, you may trust me by all means."

Kirsty sat for a moment thinking of these words and unsure if whether of not this was sure enough safety or just convincingly deceiving words that he was certain she would fall prey to. But what was the threat? There really wasn't any. She decided on trusting him and laid down once more before rolling on her side to turn her back on him. She couldn't possibly fall asleep at that moment so she simply stared at the huge empty bed. She and understood his words though. He couldn't offer anymore so don't ask, but she still felt like she was missing some kind of meaning behind those words. She had always known that about him since she was really a child, so why would he tell her this? Who was trying to convince exactly, if she knew of his inability to show mercy or understanding better than anyone? It baffled her so she remained lying there. She, for some weird reason to Xipe, chose to sleep right at the edge when there was enough room to for six or seven of them. Perhaps she was still unaccustomed to making herself comfortable or at least feel like a guest as of yet. The huge empty room was beginning to unnerve her. He was there but….he wasn't. Was this what loneliness was? Did it truly inflict such a deep void in one like this? Maybe she been telling more of the truth than knew when she spoke of loneliness. Just how did he feel about it anyways? How did one, even without a heart or feel of love and understanding, cope with such emptiness. She turned back over to face him, wherever he was in, the dark. She felt much more comfortable and safer that way. He had a clear view of her, nothing could sneak up on her or hurt her now. The damage and devastation that she had not long ago suffered from all around her was swiftly brushed from her, relieving the burden she carried about her, or at least easing the pressure of it all. She still felt alone, even as he faithfully guarded her. "Are you there?…" She whispered softly. "Yes, child." His deep voice disturbing the peace for a moment. She closed her eyes quickly to show that she would no longer annoy him. He watched her from the corner. Her perfect, sweet face. The rising and falling of her chest. The she looked so inviting.

She had unknowingly drawn him near her. He stood beside her looking down upon her fragile form before absentmindedly placing his large, in comparison to Kirsty's, hand on her cheek and stroked up to her hair and ran his hands through it. He used the palm of his half gloved hand and blood stained fingers to smooth the overly sensitive spot underneath her ear. He went in small circles and then went lower to hold the back of her neck. He felt her lightly shiver at the touch, at his touch, and realized at once that she was still awake. He froze dead in his tracks. Kirsty, encouragingly place her hand onto of his and smoothed her thumb over his and her ear. Then she suddenly made a slight tug on his forearm and was able to convince him into letting her pull him down and over her, rolling to his side right behind her and clasping his hands on her tiny, feminine waist. He relished the sweet scent of her ebony locks as well as the small struggles and flinches she made whenever he had hit a sensitive spot on her rib cage. His fingers stroked languidly across her upper abdomen, bunching up the fabric and then smoothing it down again as his fingers riddled along in an infinite circle. He could sense the heat rushing to her face again, a most unbearable feeling for Kirsty, he was sure. Yet he somehow found satisfaction from the warmth it provided. He closed his eyes, he would allow himself this. He wasn't sure why, but he would. As long as he had the upper hand, he was in no way alarmed at his sudden display of affection. Before he could completely lumber off into the dimension of sleep and awaiting dreams, he felt a sudden tug on his armor as he realized the young lively, Kirsty, was rolling to her side to face him while murmuring something incoherent in her sleep. He stood perfectly still, not flinching a muscle so as not to let her body know he was there, seeing as she was unconscious and unaware of her body's intentions to find comfort. No need to wake and startle her. After all, it wasn't that much of an inconvenience for the Prince of Pain.

The youth hid her face into the nape of his neck, snuggling her shoulders under his strong frame. He felt a slight shiver tingle down his spine and then rise to his cheeks at the feeling of the girl gently blowing air on his neck as she quietly breathed. He stared hard at the beautiful sleeping form in front of him. He couldn't help but look down at the graceful, lithe figure. So sweet. So innocent. So graceful. And she was all his. He reached out and gently stroked her hair and moved to her ear, gliding his touch across the soft lobe as she hummed and buried her face farther into his strong chest. Was she still asleep? He pondered curiously as to whether or not she was before deciding that he didn't care and wrapping his powerful, capable arms around her fragile waist and one hand tangled into her hair. He breathed in her scent one last final time and then relaxed his body, other than his firm but comforting grip. "You are a sweet child, Kirsty." with that he closed his eyes and awaited the wonderfully safe haven that sleep had to offer as he lay there with an odd feeling tearing at his heart's strings. Some weird, unusual feeling lapsing itself over and over again inside of him. He suddenly began to fret for his demonic sanity of what it could most possibly be. Hopefully not some human sort of feeling, he would not allow it. He couldn't allow it. The prince began to make a gesture to move away and allow for her to sleep peacefully and alone when she ended up getting the better of him without even knowing she did so. She huffed into his shoulder, something related to a content sigh and the price immediately felt guilt and anger with himself for wanting to leave her. He kissed the top of her head. He knew that he would have to make the right choice for this. And he must be careful. It would not be for the best if he so foolishly chose to do the wrong. He listened to his own slowed, calmer than before, heart beat. Unfortunately, whether he wished different or not and wanted to have a say in the matter, the decision had already been made for him.

Kirsty awoke to the usual, still, untouched room, save for the two lamps were lit once more. She looked over her shoulder and in front of her again, trying desperately to recall the previous night's events. She stretched her arm over the empty spot in the bed after realizing what had occurred just hours before. Their snuggling, their proximity, the gentle kiss she shared with him when she had planted a sweet, adoring kiss on the side of his neck as she had laid beneath him. It was just her to herself now, however. No dark under lord to wake up to. Kirsty sighed and placed a hand up to her forehead and again allowed for her eyelids to grow heavy. The door opened up loudly right on queue and the suddenly timid woman raced to sit up in the large bed she had somehow made her away into the center of sometime during the couples short romance. Looking to the door, Kirsty laid witnessed to none other than the tall, towering form of the cenobite leader. An awkward silence fell among the two of them as the muscular male walked his way over to her side and stood staring at the girl. Kirsty made to wipe away the sleep in her eye. "Hi…" She said as welcoming as possible. "Where were you at?….Did I keep you from sleep?" "…No, child." He glanced about the room and settled his eye sight down towards the direction of flimsy, manicured nails scratching the surface of something. Kirsty made a nervous habit of scratching her skin and playing with her hair. Her sleeveless gown was hike up high on her slender thigh, close to showing her delicate, lacy under garment. A coy smile splayed across her face as she stared up at him and then quickly pulled her long, silken gown down, holding it in place shyly. Had he seen anything? Had he wanted to? "Come, child. About that punishment-" "Wait!" "….." "About last night…" "There was nothing about our previous night together." She reached for his hand to hold on to it as she talked before realizing what she was trying to do and jerked her hand back. Instead she slid her hand up and down her right elbow and then her left, pulling on the skin when she rested her hand to stay in one place. "Oh, no of course not…" Kirsty swung her leg over the edge of the bed and awaited escorting. The figure above bided his time, not wishing to part with the new youthful delight he had just found himself growing ever so closer. Perhaps, he thought selfishly, in a dream of course….Maybe he could convince Leviathan to bestow her with a fitting, lenient punishment. What he truly wanted, though, was a punishment that could not be undone. A punishment in which she would remain somewhere in particular, perhaps forever. Just in that particular place around particular place. He was taken from his wishful thinking when the sweetest words and promising words fell upon his anxious ears, as if she had just read his thoughts.

Was there a chance to make what happened last night worth reflecting on?


End file.
